


Free

by starstruck1986



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-19
Updated: 2016-02-19
Packaged: 2018-05-21 22:26:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 747
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6060316
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starstruck1986/pseuds/starstruck1986
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It would break him, but he'd be free.  That's a price he's willing to pay.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Free

**Author's Note:**

> Warnings: Suicidal ideation and acts, angst, language.

_Am I dead yet? Is it over yet?_  
  
These are the thoughts on repeat in his mind. They bleed into one another, a constant repetition of desperation and the desire for it all to just stop.  
  
He doesn't remember when it all became so fucking bleak, or when he gave in to the persistent unhappiness which felt like it was crushing his lungs on a daily basis. He's read about Muggle cultures that execute by crushing. It certainly feels like what's happening to him.  
  
Perhaps it isn't quite as public, but it has the same effect. He curls his fingers over the stone wall in front of him and sways slightly as the wind buffets his body.  
  
Night after night Severus finds himself drawn to this spot, where life as he had known it had come to an abrupt halt when he'd killed Albus. Severus knows it does him no good to go back there night after night, but he does, and he tries to gather the courage to commit the action which will mean he never returns to the tower again. That he never has to go anywhere, ever again.  
  
He closes his eyes to the sight of the grounds at night. Shadows and rustling leaves, the slightly choppy lake. He blocks it all out because he doesn't want to see it, his home. And Hogwarts will _always_ be his home because nowhere else makes him feel as at peace as the castle does. The sounds, the smells, the feeling of belonging which washes over him every time he steps inside. It's home.  
  
Dying would mean leaving it, but Severus hopes that whatever comes next will be better than Hogwarts. He has no morbid fantasies about the afterlife – if all that comes is blackness and then nothing, he doesn't care. He won't know about it, he reasons. He hopes he doesn't come back as a ghost, but at the same time it would be interesting to see his own funeral. Who comes. Who weeps. Who is secretly happy about his untimely and unexpected death.  
  
Severus lets his hands take his weight as he falls forward and sticks his head out as far as he can reach over the parapet. He's not a fan of heights and normally this would make him feel sick, but it doesn't, and he lingers; he shivers a bit as the wind cuts through his robes.  
  
He stares down at the grass below. He wonders who would find his body if he jumped. Perhaps Filch. Perhaps Hagrid. He thinks about how broken he'll be and how much blood there'll be if he jumps. He longs to be the bloodied, shattered mess at the foot of the tower. He longs not to think or feel any more.  
  
He longs to be gone. To let go.  
  
Maybe tonight, he thinks, he'll have the courage to loosen his grip and fall over the edge. Maybe by the time the dawn breaks he'll be at peace.  
  
Bloodied, broken beyond repair, but at peace.  
  
The thought makes the air he breathes in taste a little sweeter.  
  
He briefly acknowledges the pain in his chest from leaning so heavily on the stone ramparts. Then he hears the sound of pounding feet from below.  
  
It's now or never - for tonight - anyway. He closes his eyes again and the world tilts.  
  
“No!” The shout is so loud he jumps. A rough hand fists in the back of his robes and pulls him away from the edge.  
  
The embrace he receives is bone-crushing and fraught.  
  
“How many times, Severus?” A hand cups his cheek. “Please, stop doing this.”  
“You know I can't,” he murmurs in response, hanging his head. “Not until it all stops.”  
  
Slightly shaking fingers tuck some hair behind his ear. Severus realises he doesn't even feel apologetic. He can't promise he'll never go to the top of the tower again.  
  
Severus feels something loosen in his stomach as warm lips press to his forehead in a tender kiss. Suddenly he's hugging for his life, arms aching with the effort. A gust of wind rocks them as they stand there, locked together.  
  
“Let's get in the warm.”  
  
Severus nods. He allows himself to be led away, down into the tower which is silent and cool. He has been to the tower every night for weeks. He knows it by heart.  
  
He will be back tomorrow night, and perhaps he will be free by the time the sun rises.  
  
 _-fin-_


End file.
